The School Experience
by The Stare-Master
Summary: Maximum Ride, Bird Kid Extraordinaire, goes to school. Although the White Coats haven't found her yet, she has to deal with plenty of other problems; for one, Fang. Once in the middle of everything, the only options for her are sink or swim.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, people. I decided to rewrite an old MR fanfiction that I'd once posted but then decided to take down. It's AU, kinda OOC, and only has Max & Fang in it so far. I might add the others; we'll see. Hope you like it. R&R if you want._

MAX

I hate school for every reason that could possibly exist—I hate the rabid teenagers, the demonic teachers, the boring lectures, and the brutal homework assignments. Most of all, though, I hate the implications that school held. I had been raised in a place nicknamed "the School". It was full of crazy, blood-thirsty scientists who ran cruel, painful experiments. After escaping four years ago, every normal school that I went to wound up having a teacher that was after me for the School. To say the least, it wasn't fun.

Given that information, it's easy to imagine that I wasn't exactly thrilled to go to Matterson High School, Montcalm, Michigan. My mom was driving me despite the fact that I was licensed to drive myself. My stomach felt like it was about to heave the contents of my nearly nonexistent breakfast.

"Max, you'll do fine! Believe me, Sweetie. I researched this high school thoroughly and came up with nothing that would provide suspicion. I'm sure that everything will be okay," Mom said cheerfully. As much as I loved her, my mother was sometimes too optimistic. I looked out the window and remained silent. The thought of being trapped inside for seven hours five days a week was not appealing—hiding my wings was more than a bit uncomfortable. Oh, surprised? Yeah, I have wings. Just another _wonderful_ thing that the School did for me.

We pulled up to a visitor parking space and got out. I stared in awe at the building; it was more than a little impressive. The structure was mainly glass and steel, had five stories, and was bigger than any school I'd ever seen. I looked around the ground floor, memorizing all of the possible exit routes in case the worst should happen. (That's paranoia for you.) As we walked in through the main entrance and into what I assumed was the secretary's office, a shrill bell rang. Students began flowing into the hall, gawking at me as they passed by as if I was a freak. If only they knew...

"Welcome to Matterson High," the secretary gushed. She was a blonde woman full of Botox. Her sickly sweet smile was so fake that even a two-year-old would be able to tell.

"Thank you. I'd like to get a schedule for my daughter and confirm her registration. The name is Maximum Ride." With a hint of skepticism that was all too common, the secretary shuffled through some papers. While she was taking her time doing so, I looked around the room. Art projects were tacked to all of the walls of the room. Most of them were good—_really _good. There were charcoal sketches, oil paintings, black-and-white photographs, and digital art.

The secretary finally picked a paper out of a filing cabinet and handed it to me. "Here you are, Ms. Ride. Enjoy your year!" I noticed that her eyes were a dull blue, as if they had once been bright and beautiful, but years of monotonous work had washed out their color. My mother patted my shoulder as we left the office and handed me a map of the school.

"Good luck, Max." With that, she was gone. Now I was left alone in a virtual Hell with nothing but a schedule and a map to survive with. Give me the School's bloodthirsty creations any day and I would take them down like nobody's business. Give me high school? I was as helpless as one of the three blind mice.

I walked through the halls, giving those who dared to look at me a killing glare. The last thing that I needed was people talking to me. If I stayed alone and disconnected, it was more likely that I wouldn't be found.

"Get away from me, you bastard!" My head snapped around as I heard swearing and punching. A throng of students surrounded the fight—some were trying to break it up, some were cheering the fighters on. I stopped walking and joined the rapidly growing groups of onlookers. I stood on my tiptoes and saw the two boys who were fighting. One was tan and built with blonde hair. The other had deathly pale skin and shaggy black hair. The boys were cursing at each other like drunken sailors and throwing punches right and left. The tan boy seemed to know his stuff, but it became apparent that he was no match for the pale boy. He ducked at the tan boy's next swipe and did what looked like a backbend. He then snapped his legs up and kicked the other boy in the face. Hard.

I chuckled at the perpetual ass-kicking and the bloody nose that the tan boy had earned. A teacher hurried from around the corner and started yelling for people to go to class. No one listened. Once he had pushed his way through the crowd to the center he started screeching at the pale boy and told him none too politely to go to the principal's office. Then he escorted the tan boy down the hall, probably to the nurse's office. I thought back to the pale boy's amazing stunt and mused at how he had done something like that. It was nothing compared to what I could do, but for a normal human it showed phenomenal strength.

Realizing that the late bell had already rung, I dashed to class; on my way I took two wrong turns and nearly ran into a wall. There's a display of just how graceful I am. I couldn't be more of a klutz. As soon as I ran into my biology class I knew I was in for it. The teacher was a short, fat man with squinty eyes and a mean face. I gulped and sidled to the back of the room, taking a seat in the back row.

"And what, may I ask, do you think you're doing?" He asked with repressed fury. I looked at him steadily, attempting to keep my face blank. I was the new girl—I needed to be earn a reputation of being tough.

"I got lost," I replied in a monotone. That was, more or less, the truth.

"Lost?"

"Yeah, lost."

"That's nonsense. It's the middle of the school year! It's impossible to get lost," the pudgy man said indignantly. I sighed in exasperation.

"I'm new here, sir. I came today." The teacher seemed to either not believe me or not care.

"Get out of my room. Go to the office." Well, so much for being a good student. On the other hand, the teacher was a complete imbecile. I sighed again, picked up my books, and walked out of the room. I could feel the eyes of twenty students follow me. Where would I go now? I could be a good girl and go down to the office or I could ditch school for the rest of the day. I would've chosen the latter had it not been for Dr. Valencia Martinez—my mom. I didn't want to let her down and face her disappointment. I couldn't let all of her hard work go to waste.

I trudged miserably to the principal's office and opened the door. And almost had a heart attack. The boy from the fight was sitting in a chair, calmly waiting, looking at the white wall opposite him. I took a deep breath to settle myself and walked through the door. The boy looked up and gave a dry smile. He sported a black eye and a bruised face. I sighed internally; why was it that boys _always _managed to get into fights? I sat down next to him and said something to break the awkward tension that loomed in the room.

"Hey. I'm Max."

FANG

"Hey. I'm Max," the new girl said. The first thing that I noticed was that she was astonishingly pretty. Her eyes were a deep brown and had a reddish glint to them. Her hair was curly, long, brown, and had sun streaks in it.

"Hi. I'm Fang," I replied quietly. I must have looked absolutely hideous after the fight. Matt was an asshole, though; he had it coming. In any case, he had been the one to start the fight. Unfortunately, he knew exactly how to provoke me. He should've known from our past fights that he didn't stand a chance—I could beat anyone in hand-to-hand combat, whether it was a high school footballer, karate black belt, or army-trained assassin. After all, I did have wings and super-human strength.

I had come to Michigan after escaping the School four years ago. The scientists, who I called White Coats, had caged me up and performed painful experiments on me for as long as I could remember. I had busted out of the place with hundreds of other tests subjects, though, and had evaded capture until now. After months, I had tracked down my real parents and (after explaining everything to them) started living a normal life. Or at least as normal a life as I could live with wings.

I looked back at Max and something clicked in my head. Had I met her before? She looked strangely familiar.

"Fang, huh?" She asked me with a skeptical smile. "That's an interesting name. What's your _real _name?" I unintentionally tensed at the question. I honestly didn't have a real name. I was called Subject 667 at the School, whatever that was supposed to mean. I chose my name because I liked it. When I had started living with my parents, I'd had to go by the name that they'd given me at birth.

"Oh. I always go by Fang, but my actually name is Cameron." Max raised her eyebrows at my obvious discomfort but said nothing. Man, I was completely losing my cool around this girl. Why? I was usually completely at ease around everyone, no matter what they said or did. Now, I just couldn't keep it together.

A moment later, the principal walked in. She was the opposite of most teachers here—she was nice, understanding, and had a great sense of humor. She wouldn't be happy with me, no doubt, since my visits to her office were practically weekly, but I wondered how she would react to Max.

"Hello, Fang," she said with a sigh of patient aggravation. "Looks like you got into a bit of trouble—again." She then turned to Max, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with you—" a look of realization dawned on her face—"Wait, you must be Maximum Ride, the new student." Max nodded and explained what had happened with her biology teacher. I couldn't help but laugh as she recounted what Mr. Evans had said. He really was a whack job.

The principal, equally amused, sent Max back to her class with a not to Mr. Stupid and turned to face me. "Fang...you know how much you get in trouble, and I know that no matter what I say you won't change a bit."

"Yeah, that's true. But hey, I didn't start the fight this time. Matt was angry at me for God knows what and started laying into me so I fought back, kicked his sorry ass, and got blamed for everything. It's what everyone here does." I'm sure that I came across as pissed, but that's how I felt. I could and would get him back later. For now, though, I wanted to get to class. Not that I liked it or anything of the sort, but the new girl was there.


	2. Chapter 2

_Second chapter. Woohoo. Max is OOC. Oops. Enjoy anyway._

MAX

School was better than I ever thought it could possibly be. Despite my best efforts people managed to befriend me. I sat at a table of athletic kids. It was lunch a week into school and my nerves were twisted so tightly that I thought they would break at any second. I kept looking around, half expecting someone to morph into an Eraser, one of the School's more ferocious creatures. The other girls and boys, though, were chatting away happily and ignorantly.

From across the cafeteria I spotted Fang looking at me. He was surrounded by his friends—not idiotic jocks like the one he had beaten up; just guys kind of like him. He smiled and returned the smile. I waved my hand toward the table, indicating that he should join me. One of the girls next to be, Eve, looked at him and then back at me.

"Oh, Max! Looks like you've caught Fang's attention. He's, like, the most good-looking, badass guy in the school! OMG," she squealed, "you two should _so _hook up!" I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, Eve. I don't like him that way and he definitely doesn't like me that way either." Fang said something to his friends that he was sitting with, stood, and walked to our table. All of the people at our table were sneaking glances at him. Eve and her friends were giggling quietly. Fang looked a little uneasy, but he put on his best nonchalant face and walked up to my friends and me. Eve was trying not to explode from excitement and the other boys at our table were holding their girlfriends defensively.

"Hey, Max," Fang said. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

"Hi, Fang. Come and sit down." Fang's shoulders relaxed and he smiled genuinely. I made room next to Eve by sliding the other way a bit and he sat down. Eve looked at me behind Fang and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. I stuck my tongue out at her and then turned to Fang as if nothing had happened.

"So, how goes you?" Fang chuckled lightly and said,

"Not so bad. What's up with you?"

"Honestly, nothing. What classes do you have today?" Maybe I should explain—our school ran on a seven-day cycle. I didn't have my majors every day, and there was a slightly different schedule each day. I already knew that Fang was in a few of my classes.

"Let's see...I have, um, German, gym, and then calculus. You?" I smiled at his answer.

"Exact same as you. I didn't know that we had gym together."

"Huh, that's cool. By the way, I've been meaning to ask: where did you move from?" This topic made me uncomfortable because even though I answered this question by saying Arizona, I had really come from the School when I had escaped with a bunch of other test subjects. When I had escaped, I was pretty sure that there had been other Mutant Bird Kids (as I called myself), but I didn't remember them distinctly. When I'd found Valencia Martinez through a stroke of luck, she decided to move my half-sister, Ella, and me away from Arizona to avoid the White Coats and Erasers that were out for me.

"Oh, just from Arizona. My mom got a sweet job offer—she's a veterinarian—and hauled my sister and me to this place. So there you have it."

"Go figure. I also moved from Arizona, but at the beginning of the school year." I laughed nervously. This was just slightly creepy. It was probably just a happenstance, just chance. The problem was that I didn't and still don't believe in coincidences. 'Coincidences' happen to me too often.

We talked for the rest of lunch, learning how similar we were. I found out that we both had the same 'birthday' (my birthday was just when I was old enough for the School to start experimenting on me), we both hated rap music, both were athletic, and both could kick anyone's ass in a real hurry. Go figure.

The bell rang thirty minutes later and we got up to leave. Fang smiled, waved, and walked over to join his other friends. They were all yelling childishly and giving him slaps on the shoulder; my friends were laughing hysterically and waggling their eyebrows at me like crazy. Looked like our friends approved of us as a couple. The only problem was this: I didn't.

FANG

What was wrong with me? Maybe I was going insane. I couldn't stop looking at Max for the rest of the day. There was something about her, something I just couldn't put my finger on, that made her intriguing. In gym we got paired up for double tennis, and let me tell you: she was _good_—even by my standards. She never missed one ball and kept on hitting it so hard that the other team was afraid to get near it let alone hit it back. Needless to say, we dominated the court. She didn't talk to me much more, but she did look at me a lot.

My friends kept on telling me to ask her out, but come on, I'd only know her for what, a week? I would never do something as ludicrous as that. In addition, Max looked like the kind of girl who would happily slug anyone in the face who asked her out. I liked my nose. So I didn't ask her out.

"Hello?" A voice said. I snapped out of my daze and looked at the face staring at me from not three inches away. It was—yep, you guessed it—Max.

"Oh! Hey, Max. Sorry—I was just spacing for a minute. Max punched my arm playfully. I heard laughing behind us but ignored it. Instead I turned to Max, who was giving the girls behind us the evil eye. Man, was she good.

"So, how's life?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Boring," I replied equally indifferently.

"Psh. Your life looks anything but boring, believe me. I've known you for a week and you've gotten into four fights. You've been hauled to the office five times, you've broken a finger, and you've sprained your wrist. If that is normal for you, which I think it is, then your life is not boring. I get into fights, too, but I save it for outside of school. You can't seem to get away from fights no matter where you are." What Max said puzzled me because she just didn't look like someone who would fight a lot. Yeah, I know, she was fierce and strong, a real Amazon warrior, blah blah blah, but she had a sweet disposition. She was pretty funny and could constantly lighten my mood by just being with me. Realizing what I was thinking, I asked myself a question I had been avoiding for a while. Did I really like this girl? The answer was, probably.

We walked to biology in companionable silence, listening to the drift of voices around us. All of a sudden I heard a whispered "...behind them. You get her and I'll get Fang". I whirled around and, to my surprise, Max was already facing the two people behind us. It was (of course) Matt and one of his idiotic goons. He looked fairly surprised that we had heard him. I wasn't sure how Max heard the barely whispered words from twenty feet away; for me, one of the advantages of being a Mutant Bird Kid was my uncanny ability to hear almost anything from a long way away.

Matt curled his fists, but Max walked toward him and said, "Sayonara, bastard."

MAX

"Sayonara, bastard," I growled. Matt curled his hands into fists and swung out at me. I almost laughed at how off balance he was. I blocked the punch and slugged him so hard in the face that he fell backwards onto his onto the ground, landing hard on his ass. I bent my head back as a fist came hurtling toward my head and grabbed the arm of the other boy. Still holding onto his arm, I kicked him behind the knees so that he flipped and landed—hard—on his back.

People around us were whispering and pointing and I realized how much trouble I was going to get in when the teachers arrived at the scene of the crime. It was true that I could argue innocent on the pretense that the two had tried to hurt me first (which was true). I didn't think it was worth it, though.

Fang stared at me blankly for a moment before starting to laugh. He laughed uncontrollably and somewhat maniacally. Onlookers edged away from him—I'll admit even I was a little freaked out. I walked to where Matt was lying, groaning, and holding his nose. He looked at me lividly but I just laughed a little.

"Matt, if you want to try to surprise me then you'll have to use sign language. I could hear you. Oh, and one other thing—I can kick your ass in my sleep, so don't try me again or you'll get another broken nose." I didn't bother saying anything to the second boy; I figured that Matt would spread the message real quick. I stepped away to join Fang and we walked to biology. Without being caught by a teacher and being sent to the office.

We just made the bell and took seats together in the back of the room. Then I realized that I was automatically thinking using "we". When had this started happening? Whatever the answer was, I had to admit that I didn't mind the sound of it. Fang was a pretty cool guy. He—I smacked myself mentally and stopped thinking about him. The least I could do was try not to fail high school. Mr. Evans (a.k.a. Mr. Stupid) was droning on about the nervous systems, how the signals could activate the fast-twitch muscles in an emergency, blah, blah, blah. The monotonous sound of the teachers voice was nearly unbearable. Despite that, I managed to keep myself from nodding off and even took a few notes on the side. I was behind since I'd never really done to school, but I didn't care much about that. I couldn't see myself ever wanting to go to Harvard.

Fang passed me a folded piece of notebook paper twenty minutes into the period. I opened it. It read, _This guy is sooo boring. _I laughed quietly and wrote, _Ya think? I'm having a hard time staying awake. Yuck. _I refolded the paper and passed it to Fang, who almost burst into laughter. He put his hand over his mouth and made rather unconvincing coughing sounds.

Mr. Evans glared at him but continued his lecture. I smiled and doodled on my note-taking paper for a minute. Fang wrote something else on his paper and passed it. _Want to hang out some time? _it read. I almost choked on nothing but managed to keep the surprise to myself. What should I say? Yes? No? What the hell is going on? I'd never liked a guy before and had barely talked to any in my life. One part of me said, "You don't know this guy well enough—it could be a trap". Hello, paranoia. Another part said, "You don't have to know him. Just trust him. You don't have to like him that was to just spend time with him". I was torn. I bit my lip and tuned out the obnoxious buzz of Mr. Evan's voice. The trusting part of me finally one the internal battle. Why not? I could always kick Fang's ass if he tried anything on me. _Sure,_ I wrote back. I passed the note and Fang's face lit up with happiness as he read it. His reaction secretly made me happy.


	3. Chapter 3

_Usual disclaimers, blah blah blah._

FANG

_Sure, _the note read. I smiled and gave a thumbs up at her. She smiled back and kept on taking notes. I didn't slip her any more notes for the rest of fourth hour—I'd accomplished my goal of getting her to hang out with me. Then I realized that I honest-to-God liked this girl. She was nice but also clever. She was one of the kindest people I knew when she was around me, but if someone threatened her she could kick them into next week. It was like she was used to fighting regularly. Who knew—maybe she fought every day and I just didn't know it.

If any of my friends knew my feelings, they would never stop ragging on me. They would try to hoop me up with her, they would tease me, they would tease her, and they would exaggerate everything until it got blown out of proportion and way past anyone's control. I would keep this strictly to myself. I was so happy that I was even willing to take notes for the rest of science and not fall asleep. That was an accomplishment.

I was at my locker packing my backpack two hours later when a hand tapped my shoulder. I whirled around, half-expecting Matt to be there, ready to slug me—again. Instead, Max stood there, grinning crazily. What was she high on? She never smiled. I disregarded that fact and returned the smile.

"Hey, Fang. Let's hang at my place today. It'll be fun since it's Friday—no homework to worry about." Her proposal was rather compelling. I just wanted to spend more and more time with her. Was it love at first sight? I didn't think so, but I mused that it was something similar. My smile widened and I replied with an unnecessarily loud "yeah". I noticed a few of my friends looking at us and snickering conspicuously. I shot them all a masked glance of fury. The damn morons couldn't handle the idea of me hanging out with a girl.

Max and I left the high school and started walking to her house. My paranoid side was hollering that this was nothing but a trap. I kept on walking in spite of myself. We didn't say anything as we ambled along the sidewalk. Our silence was an amiable, companionable one. The hum and buzz of traffic began to fade as we walked farther and farther from the center of the bustling town. I was puzzled—most people lived in the town or very close. My paranoid part of me was a jumble of twisted nerves.

"Hey, Max? Where do you live, exactly?" She smiled and pointed.

"Right there." I followed her finger. There was no house; just a dirt path that led into the trees lining the deserted street. Squinting, I attempted to see any exposed bits of her house between the trees. I couldn't—and I have uncanny vision—so the house was probably far back. Max turned up the driveway, me in tow. The day was dark and rainy, so the clustered trees crowding the dirt drive gave the impression of nighttime. It was intriguing, in an eerie way. Then the grove of trees opened out into a clearing. Max's house came into view. Being the graceful person that I am, I stumbled and nearly fell. Her house was easily the most amazing piece of architecture I'd ever laid eyes on.

It was a modern house, with a second floor made entirely of glass walls and stained wooden support beams. The roof was steep and tall. On the second floor was a wraparound balcony. I could see a telescope covered in a clear sheet sitting on its floor. Just how rich was this girl?

Max smiled at my obvious awe and walked toward the back.

MAX

Fang was clearly astonished by my house. Most people were, not that I had shown it to too many. The second floor was a single spacious room with a ceiling that rose as high as it appeared from the outside. (Of course the sole purpose of this was to provide room to fly in.) The side closest to us was purposed as the family room while the other side was used as the kitchen. The middle of the room was simple open space. Mom really knew what I liked. The first floor (which was partially underground) had the bedrooms and other rooms.

As for Mom, she was usually at work until later. It was likely that she wouldn't be home now. I started walking toward the back of the house and, more specifically, the back door. It had three locks on it. Unfortunately, that was a sensible precaution. Erasers had constantly attacked me in Arizona; I wasn't optimistic about evading them for much longer by a simple change of address. It was better to be paranoid than dead, right? It wasn't like the glass was secure, though...

Dismissing the rumination, I fished my key from the endless depths of my jean's back pocket and rattled the locks open.

"Hey, Max? Three locks? Isn't that overkill? This town is pretty safe."

"Not overkill. Trust me on that one," I said darkly. If only he knew. Fang grinned and shut up. He really didn't know the half of it. And he never would, seeing as he was only human. I walked lazily through the door and up the stairs at the split level. Fang looked around the room in sheer amazement, taking in the vast room. It truly was immense. He broke into an appreciative smile and turned three hundred sixty degrees, seemingly drunken by his surroundings. His mouth opened a few times before he any words came out.

"Wow, Max. This is some awesome place you've got."

"Thanks. Yeah, I have to say that I'm happy we moved here. See, I really like open spaces and such so this house fits me perfectly." I laughed quietly and dropped down on the couch. Fang browsed the collection of photos scattered around the walls—some at odd angles. Oh, boy. This was going to be interesting. No one save Mom knew about my knack for photography; most people didn't understand it. Surprisingly, I found that I was willing for Fang to know. I'd let him ask first, though. And of course, he did.

"Woah, Max. These are beautiful photographs. Where did you buy them?" I chuckled to myself.

"Ah, nowhere. I took them. I have a rather odd obsession with photography." The pictures were mostly rare images of nature (plants, animals, weather). There were a few black-and-white photos of my mom and me, though. I somehow had a feeling in my gut that our days were going to be numbered. After all, I was constantly being followed and attacked by Erasers and other inventions from the School. How long could I survive against them? I involuntarily shuddered as I thought of my past and the awful things the White Coats did.

"Are you cold," Fang asked. He had noticed my shiver.

"Oh, no. Just...well, never mind." Fang nodded and sat down next to me. Then he spotted something across the room and his eyes just about popped out of his head.

"Damn! That's the most...I don't have words, Max. You have all the latest gaming systems! The Wii, PS2, PS3, the Xbox, Xbox 360—you even have the old ones! The Nintendo 64 and the GameCube. How is this possible? Some of these are vintage. Man, you have Pong?" I smiled at his fascination and perpetual astonishment. His eyes became wider as he spotted my tall stack of videogames. I probably had over five hundred games. If you hadn't already guessed, I was an avid videogamer. I had beaten all of the state-of-the-art games that the boys ranted about in school. I also repaired vintage systems, not that I was about to tell Fang and risk his asking to fix all his games. I liked videogames, true, but I liked them in _moderation. _I didn't spend fourteen hours a day with my eyes glued to a screen. With Fang looking absolutely mind blown, I started laughing—hard.

"Tch. Why are boys always the ones who are obsessed with videogames? Most girls are so...girly. I like things that are usually pegged as boys' stuff. People always think that it's weird." Fang looked at me with an evil-yet-awesome glint in his eyes.

"Are you kidding? I think it's hot. I mean, there are so many girls at school who flip their hair and wear miniskirts and put on too much makeup. Honestly, though, I think that the stuff you're into is the good life. Finally! The world makes sense again!" I smiled, but on the inside I was very near a heart attack. _Hot? _Was that term something boys just threw around casually or did they only say it when they liked a girl? Jeez, I was so freaking confused.

FANG

Why the hell had I just said that? 'That's _hot'_? I probably could have died of embarrassment at that point. I'd never been one to even think that way, and yet I was saying this mushy crap to her. What was I going to do? I could have pretended to ignore the comment and make nothing out of it. But as I thought about what I'd said, I realized that I did have feelings for Max. I really did like her. Almost on impulse, I felt myself leaning forward.

MAX

Our lips had just touched when I heard, "Max, I'm home". I froze and pulled away from Fang, my face heated. Fang looked momentarily puzzled, but after a moment realization dawned on his face. He understood that I didn't want my mom knowing anything. She probably wouldn't have minded my being interested in a boy, but I didn't want to have to explain—I wouldn't be able to. My head was buzzing so fiercely that I felt like I would pass out. I hastily flipped the TV on and started Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. I thrust a controller into Fang's hand and started a two-person game.

"Max?" I heard my mom say. She was on the stairs.

"Up here, mom!" I yelled above the sporadic gunfire. Fang was immediately engrossed in the game—he was a natural. The enemy was dropping like a swarm of dying flies. There were footsteps on the stairs and then Mom was right there, slightly confused.

"Oh, Mom! Right—this is Fang. He's one of my friends for school," I said nervously. Although I loved my mom, she could still be the typical, embarrassing, motherly figure of a normal teenager. She smiled kindly and spoke.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Fang. I've heard quite a bit about you from Max." She smiled again and walked over to the kitchen. I slapped my hand to my forehead and groaned internally. Fang grinned smugly at me and gave me an "I told you so" look while my mom was leaned over the oven, probably putting in a batch of her delectable chocolate chip cookies in to bake. In terms of the videogame, it was apparent that I was the best one—I had my attention almost entirely on Fang, but I somehow still managed to get more kills than he did. Once we'd finished the game, I turned off the TV, grabbed a few steaming cookies, and pulled Fang downstairs to my room. I could feel Mom's eyes following us as we descended until we were out of her view.

"That was close," I muttered quietly.

"Why don't you want your mom to know anything?" He whispered back.

"Well, it's a little hard to explain. Let's just say that I've never had a lot of experience with guys—I've definitely never actually _liked _guys—so my Mom probably wouldn't give us any privacy." Biting my lip, I decided to change the subject. "Anyway, do you want a couple of these cookies? I guarantee that they're the best in the world." Fang took a cookie with a laugh and bit down on it. His expression immediately progressed from polite interest to surprise to complete shock to pure bliss.

"Holy shit. These are the best fucking cookies I have ever tasted. Seriously." I laughed at Fang's mind-blown state and ate a cookie myself. It was true: no one could make cookies quite as amazing as my mom's. I sat on my bed and looked around my room. The one window it had was swathed with a black curtain. Dark, muted light was cast into the room—my style all the way. Of course, the window was the type that opened out easily so that I could go for a midnight fly if I pleased. One wall was lined with bookcases that went from the floor to the ceiling. Another had shelves cluttered with a TV, videogames, and a computer. The third wall—opposite from me—was plastered with posters. That was where the door was. The fourth wall had my bed against it. It was also the wall with the window. The middle of the room was completely empty for reasons unknown. I'd always kept it like that. Fang looked around and nodded approvingly.

"It looks sort of like my room, except cooler. We really do have a lot in common, don't we?"

"It seems so."

"Mind if I sit down?"

"'Course not!" I patted the bed next to me; Fang sat. I couldn't believe that we had come so close to kissing. I mean, we'd known each other for, what, three weeks? Maybe it was just something like love at first sight. I had to admit that whenever I saw Fang I wanted to just hug him, or simply talk to him, or—

Or _ugh._

What was happening to me? I was turning into a mushy emo person who over thought ever single emotion. I really needed to stop thinking such friendly thoughts. I was turning into an entirely different person. I would have told Fang that we shouldn't have kissed each other, but in all honesty I liked the real thing much more than I did the idea. In fact, I seemed to like it so much that I was leaning forward to kiss Fang before I knew what I was doing.

Just as our lips met—again—who but my dear mother opened the door. Fang and I jerked upright and away from each other. I could feel my face heat up from neck to forehead. She chuckled tiredly and turned around, saying: —

"I didn't see anything."

I sighed. It seemed as though whatever gods there were had it out for us. At this rate we'd never get a single kiss in. I ran the palm of my hand down my face dejectedly. Fang, laughing, patted my shoulder sympathetically.

"Don't worry, Max. It's no big deal." I began to laugh also, and then we found ourselves in a fit of hysterical giggles. We laughed until we were reduced to a single shaking puddle. There was nothing particularly amusing about the past encounter with my mother, but it was a good fifteen minutes before we had regained any resemblance of control over ourselves.

Fang and I talked for hours after. We didn't kiss. We didn't flirt. It seemed as though Fang was being completely open with me, which left the heavy weight of guilt lingering in my heart. I wished that I could tell Fang about my true past. I wished that I could show him my wings. But those were secrets that weren't meant to be shared.

It was well after the sun set before Mom came back down. Fang and I were still deep in conversation, seated in cross-legged positions on my bed. We had been talking about our reasons for our disinterest in school when she knocked on the door and peaked her head in. We both looked up, startled out of our own little world.

"Fang, would you like to stay for supper? It's seven and I'm almost done making chicken paella. You'd be welcome to join us if your parents are alright with it." Fang thought for a moment before nodding his head and smiling.

"I'd love to stay, thanks. Paella sounds delicious—haven't had it in quite a while."

"Great! Be upstairs in ten minutes, you two." Just as Mom left, my cell phone began to ring. Groaning at the constant stream of interruptions and distractions, I fished my phone out of the depths of my jeans pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was Ella. I sighed and flipped the phone open.

"Hey, Ella. Where are you? You're going to be late for dinner."

"I'll be there in five minutes, Max. Sorry I'm late!" She sounded out of breath and I swore that I heard the sound of running footsteps. My automatic reaction was to assume that something bad had happened and might still be happening to my little sister. I stood up quickly and threw the phone down on the bed.

"Fang, I'll be right back." I started to walk out but was stopped by a hand on my right shoulder.

"Max, I think that Ella's alright. She didn't sound very distressed. She sounded rushed." My eyes just about popped out of my head. I turned slowly and stared at Fang.

"How in the hell did you—"

"I have uncanny hearing too, Max. Remember the incident with Matt?" I bit my lip and nodded. It was unsettling to know that someone—a human, no less—had hearing as good as mine. I wasn't aware that such a thing was possible before I'd met Fang. His hand tightened its grip around my shoulder. I turned around. He gave me a smile so compelling that I soon found myself smiling in response. Leaning forward, he placed a feather-light kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes and drew circles on Fang's back with my fingers.

Soon I found my lips enveloped by Fang's, shivers ghosting up my spine. I wrapped a hand tightly around his back, the other finding its way into the depths of his unruly hair. His own hands snaked around my waist, pulling me sinfully close. Though I was mentally berating myself for letting my guard completely down, my body had other plans. A nearly imperceptible moan escaped Fang's lips as I bit at his ear and down to his collarbone. His hands slid from my hips up my sides, repeating the action a few times. Fang moved his lips from mine to my neck, sucking a spot just beneath my ear that sent pangs of unbearable heat to the pit of my stomach.

It was with the utmost disappointment that we parted when the back door banged shut.


End file.
